

33 



^.-.. 






^ 



--Ks 



2.03H-2. 



T 



PORTLAND, MAINE : 

PUBLISHED BY FRANK B. CLARK, 

1888. 



Ci6 



COMPILED BY 

MRS. A. O. CLARK. 



AND WHO CAN TELL WHAT SECRET LINKS OF THOUGHT, 
BIND HEART TO HEART? 



—A. A. Procter. 



COPYRIGHTED BY 

MRS. A. O. CLARK. 




MMKS. 

IVE lis our daily bread, 
God, the bread of strength ! 
For Ave have learned to know 
How weak we are at length. 
As children we are weak, 
As children must be fed ; — 
Give us Thy grace, O Lord, 
To be our daily bread. 

Give us our daily bread. 
The bread of angels. Lord, 
By us, so many times, 
Broken, betrayed, adored : 
His body and His blood;— 
The feast that Jesus spread : 
Give Him— our life, our all — 
To be our daily bread ! 



-Procier 



M;i\ ("\(M\ sdiil lli;il (lUiflu's iuiiii\ 

\\c il (lu> slii;lili>s( i'()ii(;u'l, i^'ol lluMTlVoni soiiu^ i^'ood, 
S(>nu> lilllo L;r;u'r : (Mh> kimllv I lnuii^lil. 
One iis|)ir;i(i()ii yd iinlrll, one hil (»l courn^'c 
l*\>r (li(^ (l;irk(Miinu' skv: owe l^Kmiii of fnilli 
To l)r;i\t> llu' lliii'kiMiiiiiL;' iUs ol' lil\*; 
()nt» glimpse of l>iiL;lilcM' skirs, b(\\(unl llu' L;at luM'iiii^- 
inists, 
To niiikc this lifi' worlli w liilc. 
Anil luMMMi ;i siirtM' luMil;iL;(\ 

Tlioii iniisl tlivs(>lt' l>i> tni(\ 

ll" iluMi \\\c iriilli ^^o^ll(ls( icarh : 

'V\\\ SlUll nUlSl ONiM'lloW if lluMi 

AiuUIum's soul wouKk^t n'lU'li : 
It lu'i^ks \\\c oMM'How ot" lu'aii 

'!'(» j^ivi' tlu' lips full spcHH'li. 
'riiink tvnlv. ;iiul tliv llionu'lil 

Shall the w orld's I'ainiiu^ (ccd : 
Speak irulv, aiul c;\c\\ word of lliino 

Shall Ih> a fruilfnl scimI : 
\.\\c inilv, and ihy lifo shall In^ 

A 'jri^U and nohl(> rriH>d ! 



(N) 



lively iiiiiii is liis (twii iiiiccslor, iiiid cxcry 111:111 is liis 
own luni'. I I(Ml(!vis('S liis own liil nic, ;iii(l inlicrils liis own 
j.jisl. I>r. IL l<\ ll,ul<i<'. 

i)\\v liord (iod (lolli work WVv. w. piiiilci", wlio scllclli (lio 
Idlers l);i('kwiir(l ; we sec iiiid led well Ins soUin<^", hill W(5 
slmll see Mi<^ |niiit yonder in 1 ludife (o eoiiK!. -Mart in Lull w.r. 

Tlierc! is ;i shikiiii;' leL;"eiid illiisl niliiio- Mio l)less(',dn(^s8 of 
jx'.i'foiiniiiL;' onr duly iil wlialever eosi lo oni'own indiniitioTi. 
A monk li;id seen ii heiinliriil vision of our S;i-vioi", iind in 
sileiil Miss lie was j^aziiiL;' n])oii il. The hoiii- stirived at 
whi(di il was his duly lo h-ed llu; poor ;\i IIk; eonvent j^'sitc;. 
He would hiin \\;\\v liii^'ereil in his eell, I raiisporicMJ willi joy 
at the vision ; Inil under a sense ol" duly he tor-(! hinis(3lf 
away IVoni il lo |ie!ioiiii his liiiinhle service. When Ik; r(!- 
tiiriie(l he foiind Hie hiessed vision slid wailing' for him, and 
lieiird a voice sayin.^': 'Mhidsl Ihoii stayed, I would have 
ei'one. As llion liasi .i;on(!, I havi; remaine(l." 

''Do Thoii llien l)r<'allie ^I'cal IhoiiL^hts into my mind, 

'I'he h'tleis of my toii^iu; do Tlion iinhind, 

That I may have the j)()wer to siiij;- of TIku;, 

And siiiL;' 'Idiy praiscss (^vei'laslin^ly." 

— Mu'liacl Anf/cfo. 

The world's lirst Liift to Him who came to save it was a 



man^'er; an 



d ils last, a cross! — Bascom. 



m 



rpHE WATEHER m THE SATE. 

'M kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint and sore ; 
Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the 

door ; 
Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come 
To the glory of his presence, to the gladness of his 

home. 

The friends that started with me have entered long 

ago ; 
One by one they left me struggling with the foe ; 
Their pilgrimage was shorter, their tiiumphs sooner 

won ; 
How lovingly they'll hall me, when all my toil is 

done ! 

With them the blessed angels, that know no grief 

nor sin ; 
I see them by the portals prepared to let me in ; 
O Lord! I AVait thy pleasure ; tliy time and way are 

best; 
But I am wasted, worn and w^eary, — O Father, bid 

me rest. 

—Br. Gufhne, 



{10) 



We have, somewhere, read that on the shores of the 
Adriatic, tlie wives and children of the fislierinen wlio ply 
their craft by day npon the sea, assemble at sunset and join 
in singing some familiar household hymn. And they sing, 
and sing again, sendhig their voices clear and strong out 
upon the w^aters, until their waiting ears catch a response 
telling them that their loved ones are almost home. So when 
our days of earthly toil are over, when our suns of life are 
fast setting, and we draw near the eternal shore, may our 
dull ears catch the sweet soncrs of the waiting ansfels, and 
our faltering lips send back a responsive chorus, announcing 
that we too are almost home — almost in the arms of the 
shining escort, almost at the doors of the Father's house with 
many mansions. 

There are man}' intimacies, but few true friendships. 
The reason why perfect friendships are so rare, is that char- 
acter is so im})erfect. Friendship is true in jjroportion as the 
tenderness which underlies it is unselfish. Not only is it in 
friendship "more blessed to give tlian receive," but giving is 
the inevitable condition of receiving; and he who loves most 
generously, asking for notliing again, will receive most plen- 
teously the affection wliich can only come as a spontaneous 
offering of the heart. 

Life is history, not poetry. It consists mainly of little 
things, rarely illuminated by flashes of great heroism, rarely 
broken by great dangers or demanding great exertions. — 
Leeky, 



ill) 



1 AM mYi WAY. 

lll^HERE are no sorrowing hearts bnt heaven enfohls them, 
And Christ can give them rest ; 
He takes onr souls, all torn with grief, and holds them 
Close to His loving breast. 

O weary heart, press on ! there yet remain eth 

This rest for thee ; 
O weary soul, toil on ! His love restraineth 

And blesseth me. 

He blesseth all things wandering and erring, 

And far astray ; 
A voice still comes, life's darkened pathways cheering, 

" I am the way ! " 

" I am the truth, the life, the resurrection ; " 

Though dead in sin, 
Flee but to Me, thy only sure protection. 

And enter in. 

In, past the gates which guard the land immortal, 

The rest above. 
No stern-browed warder keeps the golden portal. 

Its God is love. 

Earth's vessels may be shattered, broken, riven. 

And life a loss ; 
There yet remains this rest of heaven; 
Lay down thy cross. 



(12) 



I cannot paint, nor write, nor sing-, and yet 

There seems for me some qniet niche to fill 
Somewhere in God's great world ; I stand and wait 

Where He may find me ready for His will. 
Ungifted is my life with talents great, 

And yet that joj^fnl happiness within 
Tell of a deep contentment that abides. 

And of a friendship sweet and strong with Him. 

The Lord gets His best soldiers out of the highlands of 
affliction. — Sjjurgeon. 

The years have linings, just as goblets do ; 
The old year is the lining of the new — 
Filled with the wine of precious memories ; 
The golden 2vas doth line the silver is. 

It may not be ours to utter convincing arguments, but 
it may be ours to live holy lives. It may not be ours to be 
subtle, and learned, and logical, but it may be ours to be 
noble, and sweet, and pure. — Canon Farrar. 

Before I commit a sin it seems to me so shallow that I 
ma}' wade through it dry-shod from any guiltiness ; but when 
I have committed it, it often seems so deep that I cannot 
escape without drowning. — Fuller. 



(13) 



''I desire to feel every day the coiistantl}^ purifying effect 
of the sacrifice of my Lord and Master. Look at the foot 
of the cross, and I am sure you will feel that the precious 
drops cleanse from all sin." — C. H. Spurgeon. 

To obtain perfection it is not necessary to do singular 
things, but to do connnori things singularl}^ well. — Francis 
Be /Sales. 

There are a few who make their life "a song," 
A silvery call to urge tired souls along, 

A clear bell o'er the cope 
Of the steep mountain they have had to climb 
With such a patience ; they have made sublime 

The soul's forlornest hope. 

And when these dear ones hidden pass adown 
" The other side," beyond the mountain's crown. 

The silvery tinkling vein 
Of gladness comes aback to touch us so — 
New courage in our sinking heart doth grow, 

We urge us on again. 

Love sanctities into a beautiful thing, the meanest minis- 
try. — Dr. Vincent. 



(14) 



I compare patience to tlie most precious thing that the 
earth produces — a jewel. Pressed by sand and rocks, it re- 
poses in the dark Up of the earth. Though no ray of light 
conies near it, it is radiant with imperishable beauty. Its 
brightness remains even in the deep night ; but, when liber- 
ated from the dark prison, it forms, united to gold, the 
distinguishing mark and ornament of glory — the ring, the 
scepter, and the crown — said the wise Hillel. Its end and 
reward is the crown of life. — Krummacher, 

To live nobly, we must act nobly on every occasion that 
presents itself. 

Days that are gone, must not spoil to-day, nor dead joys 
do the living joys wrong. 

Words are spiritual forces, angels of blessing or of curs- 
ing. Unuttered, we control them ; uttered, they control us. 

The serene, silent beauty of a holy life is the most 
powerful influence in the world, next to the might of the 
Spirit of God. — Spurgeon. 

Conduct is the great profession ; behavior is perpetually 
revealing us; what a man does, tells what he is. — F. D. 
Huntington. 

" Who chmbs keeps one foot firm on fact 
Ere hazarding the next step." 

— Browning. 



{15) 



i%^ ^^- 




SER ffilST. 

*^i^ HE long blue waves upon the golden sands 
Are rolling in, 
Steady their throb, as beat of heart that stands 
At peace within. 

There are blue hills beyond the tide, but they 

Are shrouded now; 
The sea-mist stretching all across the bay, 

Hangs tliick and low. 

There are blue hills beyond life's restless tide ; 

At times we catch 
Faint glimpses of their beauty such as chide 

Our faithless watch. 

Why strain our eyes to pierce the mist that hides 

Our picture dim ? 
We have a Pilot who commands the tides ; 

Trust all to Him. 

— Selected. 



(16) 



Death is another life. We bow our heads 
At going out, Ave think, and enter straight 
Another golden chamber of the King's, 
Larger than this we leave, and lovelier. 

They conquer who believe they can. 

A bad man is like an earthen vessel — easy to break and 
hard to mend. A good man is like a golden vessel ; hard to 
break and easy to mend. — From the Hindoo. 

Men weave in their own lives, the garments which they 
must wear in the world to come. 

Neither is any creature, great or small. 
Beyond His pity, which embraceth all. 
Because His eye beholdeth all which are. 
Sees without search, and counteth without care. 
Nor lies the babe nearer the nursing place 
Than Allah's smallest child to Allah's grace ; 
Nor any ocean rolls so vast that He 
Forgets one wave of all that restless sea. 

— Edwin Arnold. 



U7) 



O do not deem that it matters not 

How you live your life below ; 
It matters much to the heedless crowd 

That you see go to and fro ; 
For all that is noble and high and good 

Has an influence on the rest, 
And the world is better for every one 

Who is living at his best. 

Then I saw in my dream that it is much easier going 
out of our way when we are in it, than getting into it when 
we are out of it. — Bunyan. 

Faith and hope 
Will teach me how to bear my lot, — 
To think Almighty wisdom best. 
To bow my head, and murmur not. 
The chast'ning hand of One above 
Falls heavy, but I kiss the rod : 
It gives the wound, and I must trust 
Its healing to the self-same God. 

— Eliza Cook. 



{18) 



miYi TO0 SEAS. 

" When tliou passest tlirougli the Avaters I will be with thee." 
'^f^'ACH night we are launched on a sea of sleep; 
W No doubts disturb us, no fears annoy. 

Though we plow the waves of the darkened deep, 
We know^ we are safe in the Master's keep, 
And the morning brings us joy. 

What dread, then, should daunt us, wdiat doubt distress. 
When on death's dark sea Ave are launched alone ? 

In that deeper sleep should we trust Him less? 

Shall we limit to earth His poAver to bless ? 
Will the Father forsake His own ? 

He made us His children ; He bears us to bed ; 

And Avhether our sleep be the first or last. 

What matters it AAdiere our souls are led. 

If our trust in the God of the living and dead 

Shall only hold us fast? 

— Chambers' Journal. 



(19) 



Give me these links: First, sense of need; second, de- 
sire to get; third, belief that God has in store ; fourth, belief 
that, though he withholds awhile, he loves to be asked ; and 
fifth, belief that asking will obtain. Give me these links and 
the chain will reach from earth to heaven, bringing heaven 
down to me, or bearing me np to heaven.^ Z>/-. Guthrie. 

Forenoon, and afternoon and night, — Forenoon, 
And afternoon, and night,— Forenoon, and — what ! 
The empty song repeats itself. No more ? 
Yea, that is Life : make this forenoon snl)lime. 
This afternoon a psalm, this night a prayer, 
And Time is conqnered, and thy crown is won. 

—U. R. SilL 

There is no knowledge for which so great a price is paid, 
as a knowledge of the world; and no one ever became an 
adept in it, except at the expense of a hardened and wonnded 
heart. — Countess of Blessington, 

Be not simply good; be good for something. — -Thorean. 



(20) 



(15HaTE¥ER IS, IS BEST. 

know as my life grows older, 

And my eyes have clearer sight, 

That under each rank wrong, somewhere. 

There lies the root of right. 

That each sorrow has its purpose, 

By the sorroAving oft un guessed ; 

But as sure as the sun brings morning, 

Whatever is, is best. 

I know that each sinful action. 
As sure as the night brings shade. 
Is sometime, somewhere, punished. 
Though the hour be long delayed. 
I know that the soul is aided 
Sometimes, by the heart's unrest. 
And to grow, means often to suffer ; 
But whatever is, is best. 

I know there are no errors 

In the great eternal plan. 

And all things work together 

For the final good of man. 

And I know when my soul speeds onward 

In the grand eternal quest, 

I shall say, as I look earthward, 

Whatever is, is best. 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



{21) 



PHiiSES 0P LIFE. 

HERE are many phases of life witli which we come in 
contact, one of which is presented in the dreamhmd 
in which the child dwells, another in the bright day when he 
comes to a consciousness of himself. Still another is the 
bright poetic glimmer which is so soon stripped of its gloss, 
and which is soon succeeded by life's earnestness and reality, 
that cast their shadows and often darken the bright picture. 
But yet the holy of holies of the heart, with its extatic joys, 
with its innocency and freedom from care, with its faith and 
trust and humility, is not lost to us. But O, how deep has 
this treasure been covered, how has this world of childhood 
been obscured ! And although it lies deeply buried, it can 
yet be restored to the light of day. This is the divine sig- 
nature to the indestructibility of the soul's life. By how 
many floods of passion has man been engulfed, how many 
heavy-laden vans of care and anxiety have run over him, how 
much of the debris of anxieties and cares have accumulated, 
and still he has not succumbed. He bears the divine like- 
ness which, tho' disfigured, can never become wholl}^ ob- 
literated. 



(22) 



mm Masie. 

H, for a burst of soug, 

Exultant, deep, and strong, 

One gnsh of mnsic's billowy might, 

To bear my soul away 

Into the realms of day. 

From these dim glacier — eaves of Life's cold night ! 

Oh, for a sunset strain 

Wafted o'er slumberous main, 

To enter, spirit-like, my prisoned lieart, 

And there, with viewless hand, 

Unloose each mortal band, 

That in the songs of heaven I too might learn a part ! 

The sweetest music here 

Calls forth the quiet tear, 

For grief and gladness flow in bleiided stream ; 

Oh for the joyous day 

(Can it be far away ?) 

When one great Alleluia Song shall 

Chase Life's tuneless dream ! 

— F. B. Havergal. 



(23) 



If there be do enemy, no fight; if no figlit, no victoiy ; 
if no victory, no crown. — Savonarola. 

A good man would rather Ivnow liis infirmit}^ than tlie 
foundations of the earth or the heights of tlie heavens. — St. 
Augustine. 

The best looking-glass, wherein to see thy God, is per- 
fectly to see thj^self. — Hutjo. 

May m}^ own will be annihilated, that Thine may reign 
in me ; for it is Thine, O Lord, to will, and mine to obey. — 
Fenelon. 

True obedience has no lead at its heel. 

Make yourself nests of pleasant thoughts. None of us 
yet know, for none of us have been taught in early youth, 
what fairy palaces we may build of beautiful thoughts, })roof 
against all adversity. Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble 
histories, faithful sayings, treasure-houses of precious and 
restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make 
gloomy, nor poverty take away from us — houses built with- 
out hands, for our souls to live in. — J. RuHkin. 



m) 



Events are only winged shuttles which fly from one side 
of the loom of life to the other, bearing the many colored 
threads, out of which the fabric of our character is made. 

The}^ lived, and they were useful; this we know, 

And naught beside ; 
No record of their names is left to show 

How soon they died. 
They did their work, and tlien they passed away, 

An unknown baud ; 
But they shall live in endless day, in the 

Fair, shining land. 

And were they young, or w^ere they growing old. 

Or ill, or well. 
Or lived in poverty, or had they wealth of gold — 

No one can tell; 
Only one thing is known of them — thej faithful 

Were, and true 

Disciples of the Lord, and strong, through praj^er, 

To save and do. 

— ^Selected. 

Angels are always near where patience, heroism and 
love are. — Dr. Vincent. 

I am glad Heaven is a realiti/., not a hope ; that it lies 
before us, not behind us. — Br. J. W. Bai^hford. 



(25) 



All ! when sliall all men's good be each man's rule, and 
universal peace lie like a shaft of light across the land? — • 
Tennyson. 

Blindfolded and alone I stand, 

With unknown threshold on each hand. 

The darkness deepens as I grope. 

Afraid to hear, afraid to hope. 

Yet this one thing I learn to know. 

Each day more surely, as I go, — 

That doors are opened, ways are made. 

Burdens are lifted or are made. 

By some great law, unseen and still, 

Unfathomed purpose to fulfill. 
Not as I will. 

We never know through what divine mysteries of com- 
pensation the great Father of the Universe may be carrying 
out His sublime plan; but the words, "God is love," ought 
to contain to every doubtful soul the solution of all things. — ■ 
Miss Mulock. 

Do not be desirous to have things done quickly ; do not 
look at small advantages. Desire to have thing done quickly 
prevents their being done thoroughly. Looking at small 
advantages prevents great affairs from being accomplished. 
— Confucius. 



C^(i) 



M0THER^Ir0¥E. 

HERE is nothing human more beautiful than mother- 
love. As the mother bends over the sleeping form of 
her babe, a sweet spring of love and happiness swells 

within her bosom, and the language of her heart is, 

'' The Lord in His mercy gave me thee, 
And tliou in truth art part of me ! " 
But even while her heart is flowing into the life of her loved 
little one, she is not without anxieties. As her imagination 
scans its possible future, she is moved to think, with the 
poet, if slie (h)es not say, — 

'•Tliy day begins uncertain, child; 
Thou art a blossom in the wild ; 
But over thee, Avith his wings abroad. 
Blossom, watches the angel of God." 

Thus mother-love finds the perfection of its joy in Christian 
faith. Blessed, therefore, is that mother whose faith enables 
her to place both the present and the future of her child in 
the arms of Him who when on earth said, '^ Suffer the little 
children to come unto Me;" and who, speaking from the 
throne of His glory, still welcomes to His arms every little 
one whose mother entrusts her child to His keeping! — Ziofi's 
Herald. 



(27) 






>5«»><».*»r<k 



S()iU('liiiu>s ;i Iol;' will sclllc oNcr ;i xi'ssc^Ts dtu'k, \('l 
l(';i\(' (lie l(t|)iu;is( cliMr. TluMi :i sailor l;(>('s up aloll and 
s^rls a ItMtkdiil w liicii (lie licliiisinaii on diM'k caiiiiol ocl. So 
pravci' sends the son! alofl ; lifts il altoNc (he clouds in which 
oil!' scHishncss and t'i;d(isiii hcioL;" us, and L^ivcs us achaiici^ 
to sec w hich wav lo sIcit. S^)!! /-(/i-oii. 

"Tis in Ihc advaiu'c of indi\idiial minds 

Thai the slow crowd should ground their expectat ions 

I^\(>idnallv to hdlow as the sea. 

Waits aL^'cs in its l»ed, till some one wave 

()ut oi tlu' multitude aspires, extends 

That the empire (tf the whole, some leet |)(M'haps, 

()ver the strip of sand which eoidd conllne 

Its fellows so loni;- time; tlienc(d'orth the rest, 

I^vcii tt) the meanest, hurrv in at once. 

And so much is clear ^ain. 

— liahrrt liroinii Uji. 

()h, how small a portion oi earth will hold us when w t^ 
are dead, who amhit ioiisl v seek aftci' the whole world whih* 
wc are living-. / 7/ ///y>. Kin;/ of Muciuhni. 



i^ih 



¥0RK. 

\ IKE coral insects miiltitiKlinous 

The minutes are whereof our life is made. 
They build it up as in the deep's blue shade ; 
It grows, it come to light, and then, and thus 
For both there is an end. The populous 
Sea-blossoms close, our minutes that have paid 
Life's del)t of work are spent ; the work is laid 
Before our feet that sliall come after us. 
We may not stay to watch if it will speed, 
The bard if on some luter's string his song 
Live sweetly yet ; the hero, if his star 
Doth shine. Work is its own best earthly meed. 
Else have we none, more than the sea-born throng 
Who wrought those marvelous isles that bloom afar. 

Jean higehnv. 

The cloud that hides our future never lifts — blessed 
shadow! Who would wish to see one step along the way ? 
An unseen hand will guide us safely to the other side if we 
take lirm hold, and cast our care on Ilim. Better to leain 
than to labor : better to trust than to see. 



{30) 



Th(n'waldsen was a Danish sculptor. Returning from 
Italy to his native land, he brought a great number of lovely 
works of art, winch he packed in straw. When unpacked, 
the straw was strewn about the streets, and it so happened 
that it contained a great many seeds. These took root, and 
before long flowers were blooming in Copenhagen, from 
those seeds. Every hour we are scattering seed : see that it 
be the kind that shall grow bounteous flowers. 

Out in the rain a world is growing green. 

On half the trees quick buds are seen 

Where giued-up buds have been. 

Out in the rain God's Acre stretches green. 

Its harvest, quick though still unseen ; 

For there the life hath been. 

— Christina Rossetti. 

How many members of churches and worshipers in the 
sanctuary indulge in devout passivity, but are never seen 
bearing the heat and burden of the day, working in the vine- 
yard ! They luxuriate in the rich pastures of God's grace, 
and lie doAvn beside the still waters of his love, but they do 
not lend a hand to break up the fallow ground, sow the good 
seed, extract the weeds, drive away the fowls, or gather the 
harvest. — Christian Union. 



(31) 



l\;iinl>i>\\ s ;irt^ lU'ViM" paintoil c^xrc^pt upon raiiuhops. 
riu'N that st>\\ in tlu' toars k\( coin riliou. iwip in tlu> jovs i>l' 
pai'ilon aiul pi\u'o. Surli umis watiM- i\\o roots of i;Tai'i\ 
lUosscil iwc \\\c\ thai nioniai ami nuaul. Tlu' huKliM' to ilk' 
lii^luM- Cliiistian lil\> starts from tlu' Just of st>lf-abasomiMil ; 
but fv>r c>\iM\ louuil wo uooil a frosh i^rasp on Josus, ami a 
uow lift In liis lo\ in^' lunul. ('((i/it/\ 

Traiso not tli\ wiuk, but \cl ihv work piaiso tlu>o; 

l'\>r (KhuIs, not words, maki> oaoli man's momof\ staMo. 
1 1" what thou (h>'st is o\>o(l, its ^\hh1 all uumi will si>o ; 

Musk h\ its smoU is know n, not hv its lahol. 

Oopoml upon it, in tho miilst of all iho sriom'o about tho 
woiKl and its wavs, aiul all tlh> ii;uoi;nu'o kA' (bul and his 
i;rt'a I ut'ss, tlu> man ov woman who oan sav, *• Thv will bo 
dono," with truo hoari foiL;i\ in^' us, is noaror tho soi rt>t of 
things than tho i;-oolov;isi and t htn^lo^ian. — (»<•(>. MtU'JomtUL 

You mav doooivo all tho piM>i>lo somo o( tho timo, ami 
somo pi^oplo all tho tinu\ but not all tho poojdo all tho timo. 



(^■-^) 



'^You may not l>o ahlc to shine like a star on the pathwa}^ 
of many feet, bnt yon ean be a iire-(ly to ligliten u[^ the o-h)oni 
of nioht to some poor wandering sonl Avho is groping after 
God. Even a gh)W-\vorni has a destiny, and thon hast thine. 
Fnlfil it." 

'^Tlie little wonies that we meet eaeh day 
May lie as stnnibling-blocks across our way, 
Or we may make them stepping-stones to be 
Of graee O Christ, to thee." 

Eai'h Amen becomes an anthem. 

For we know He will I'nltil 
All the pnipose of His goodness. 

All the splendor of His will ; 
Only trust the living Saviour, 

Only trust Him all the way. 
And vonr spring-tide path shall brighten 

To the i)erfeet snnnner day. 

—F. U. Havevfial. 

It is always good to know, if only in passing, a eharmino 
human being: it refreshes one like thnvers and woods and 
clear brooks. — (rrAm/e FAiM. 



{33) 



Was it not a pretty thouoht, that of the gay young 
Southern girl, dancing with a sort of ecstacy among the fall- 
ing leaves, Avhose brilliancy she had never seen in her sea- 
coast home? To one near her, saddening over their fall, she 
said: "Just think how much more room it gives you to see 
the beautiful blue sky beyond!" Is it not true that, as our 
little joys and pleasures, and earth's many lovely things fade 
and pass away, they open spaces for us in which to see God's 
heaven beyond? 




(34) 



wm. 



